


Alive

by starlight_and_seafire



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Damerey Week, Established Relationship, F/M, Minor Injuries, POV Poe Dameron, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 22:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16355090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_and_seafire/pseuds/starlight_and_seafire
Summary: After a mission goes south, Poe can’t wait until he can get off that godsforsaken planet and return home.Once that happens though, he’s consumed with the need to feel alive, to feel safe, to feel warm.Of course, that leads him to Rey.For Damerey Week - Day 6: Survival





	Alive

There’s a thing that happens when the shit hits the fan, when the blaster fire starts raining down on you and there’s no telling when or where the next explosion will be.

The heart starts pumping hard, the adrenaline spikes, and you can hear your blood pumping through your ears. Time stretches and slows down and you focus, focus till there’s nothing but you and the path to the other side, nothing but the sight of your arm stretching out towards your target to return blaster fire. There’s nothing else to focus on but the need to survive, nothing else you can think about till the moment you can make it back to your ship and you can get off this godsforsaken planet and return _home._

Poe’s got one arm wrapped around Snap, who’s bleeding from shrapnel wounds in his leg and arm. His other hand is gripping his blaster, and he’s on high alert for the heavy footsteps of the Stormtroopers they’ve been fighting. Their intel didn’t say anything about the First Order being on the planet, but Black Squadron is always prepared for a fight.

Black Squadron was always trusted with the most sensitive, difficult missions, because they always got the job done.

Didn’t mean the missions didn’t usually go sideways at some point, though.

Poe hears an explosion in the distance, feels Snap flinch at the sound. Snap had caught the brunt of the explosion earlier, catching shrapnel and other debris along his left side. Poe was thrown backwards from the force of the blast, but he was further away than Snap, and didn’t get too scratched up as bits of debris and other dust rained around him.

Kare and Jess had run towards them, pulling them behind a ledge while they became reoriented. Their quick thinking kept a pair of Stormtroopers from seeing them as they ran through the area.

Gods, he just wants to be home, wants a shower and a warm meal and to wrap himself around his best girl, but first . . .

Focus.

First, they need to get out of here.

He pats his pocket, feeling the pouch sitting safely inside, before he raises his comm to his mouth.

“Beebee – we’ll be back shortly. Five minutes tops. Start priming the ship,” he says quietly, as he takes one more look around the area. It looks relatively clear. It’s now or never.

He gives the signal, and Kare moves out first, scanning the area with her blaster leading the way as she moves from the safety of the ledge they were hidden behind to the open alleyway.

He hefts Snap up a little more securely against his side, holding him around the waist. Snap’s got his uninjured arm curled around his shoulders, carefully keeping it away from Poe’s other arm so that Poe can keep his blaster aimed while they move.

Right behind them is Jess. She’s bleeding from a cut beneath her eye, and it makes her look a little dangerous, even feral.

He’s just glad Jess is on their side right now. He’d hate to be the enemy facing her. She’s so angry she looks like she could rip their heads from their necks one-handed.

His eyes flick around him as they move, darting in the direction of every little bit of noise he hears. Time stretches out before him, making a four-minute walk seem to last eons. Finally, they board the ship and he tries to gently set Snap down on the bench, while Kare goes for the medikit. Beebee’s got the engine fully primed, and Jess gets to the controls and starts liftoff before he can even make it to the cockpit.

He sees her glare out the window as she takes them into atmo, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows she prefers silence while she’s processing things. He settles down into the co-pilots seat, stares out into the stars beyond as well, tries to urge the ship faster and faster and faster, so he can get home quicker. The adrenaline is still pumping through his blood and it prickles under his skin, and he just wants to feel alive but instead he feels like he’s buried underneath a film of dust and debris and ash, and he’s stuck in a cockpit for the next hour and he just wants to get out and _move_. . .

When they finally land, and the hatch door opens, he lets Jess shoo him out of the cockpit while she handles the shut down procedures. Snap is escorted to the med-bay while Kare follows, and he stumbles out of the ship to solid land.

The General waits for him at the end of the ramp. Her face is stern and serious, but her eyes are tired and worried. In the last few years, she seems to have aged twice as fast.

He knows she is prepping him to take over when she’s gone. She’s said as much, in the quiet moments that follow the brutal bursts of battle.

He feels it weigh on him more than ever. He’s outraged that she has to fight a war for the second time in her life. That she, once again, has to fight family in order to prevent the spread of evil. She’s too good of a person. She doesn’t deserve any of this. She deserves to have her family, to be loved and appreciated – not to fight them. He wishes that he could’ve done more. Wishes he could do more. He’s angry that he can’t, and the injustice of it all burns at him.

“Did you get it, Commander?”

“Yes, General,” he replies, reaching into his pocket to hand over the little pouch that’s nestled in there. He places it in her palm, watches as her fingers curl around the prize.

“You did well. You all did,” she says, and she gives him a once-over. “The debrief can wait. Get some food and some rest. We can talk in the morning.”

He nods, says “Thank you, General,” before he glances around the crowd, at the people working away in the hangar.

The seriousness falls away from General Organa’s face, only to replaced with a knowing look and a sly smile. “Rey had a meeting with the head of the Pathfinder and Intelligence divisions, Commander,” she says. “I believe it should be ending right about now.”

“Thank you, General,” he says again, nodding at her before turning to walk away. A wave of relief rushes over him at hearing that Rey was just inside, just tied up in a meeting and that the meeting should be over, but that feeling is quickly burned away by the adrenaline that keeps pumping beneath his skin.

His steps down the base’s hallways are quick and purposeful, and he doesn’t stop until he gets to his objective. She’s at the opposite end of the hallway, standing just outside of the meeting room with the head of the two divisions.

He can’t help but stare at her until everything else but her disappears. She glances up, and he sees a grin start to appear on her face before it fades away and her eyes widen, a silent _oh_ appearing on her lips. He doesn’t know what he looks like, doesn’t care what he looks like, doesn’t particularly care if anyone else sees whatever is written on his face. He only knows that he wants her.

She nods at him, and he turns and walks down the corridor back to their quarters. He knows that she knows to meet him there.

He just doesn’t think he can stay there any longer, just staring, just waiting and wanting, without being able to do anything.

He’s in his quarters for a minute, maybe two, when the door slides open. He’s removed his jacket, is working on his boots and socks, and once more when he looks up, his focus narrows down till his vision is filled with nothing but her. He tosses the last sock carelessly to the side, stands and strides toward her until they collide into each other.

His hands go straight to her hair as he presses his mouth to hers. He immediately starts unwinding the ties that keep her hair up, working them until her hair falls loose around her shoulders, where he can bury his hands in it and keep her close.

She tilts her head a little further to the side, and he lets his tongue trace the seam of her lips, feels her soft little sigh as she opens to let him in. A moment later, the tips of their tongues meet, sensitive and warm, and he lets out a groan.

He loses himself in her sweet mouth for a moment, until she pulls away panting. He moves down, dragging the tip of his nose down the soft skin of her chin, then her jaw, until he gets to her neck and starts pressing short, sucking kisses along the column of her throat. He feels her throat vibrate under his lips when she moans, and he can’t help but suck a little harder on that patch of skin.

“Poe,” she says, soft, breathy, before trying again. “Poe, wait.” Her voice is a little firmer and she tugs gently where her fingers have weaved themselves into his hair. He goes easily upon her direction, but at the same time, there’s the burning under his skin, the remnants of the fight, of the adrenaline, and he just wants to lose himself in her. But she’s told him to wait, and he’ll follow whatever direction she wants to give him.

He meets her gaze, sees her eyes study his own. Her hand comes up to cup his cheek, a thumb caressing his cheekbone. She keeps that hand resting on his cheek, and it’s cool and comforting, and he’s a bit in awe of how deeply this woman affects him.

“Are you okay,” she asks.

He nods, short and quick, takes the hand that is resting on his cheek into one of his. He sees black dirt now marring her otherwise clean hands, brings the back of her hand up to his lips to kiss it as she says, “Say it. Tell me if you’re okay or not.”

“I’m okay,” he whispers, pressing another kiss onto her skin. “I’m okay – I’m okay now that you’re here and I’m here.” He leaves his lips resting on the thin, delicate skin on the back of her hand. “Please.” It’s quiet, whispered into her skin, and once more her other hand reaches back into his hair, cradling his head as she pulls him forward into a searing kiss.

She knows him so well, can probably feel the aching, desperate need to lose himself in her, and her hands quickly come up to start undoing the buttons on his shirt. Her fingers are quick and nimble, and within moments, she’s sliding the shirt from his shoulders.

He wants to let her hands roam, but she’s still wearing too many clothes, and he wants – needs – to feel all of her pressed as close to him as possible. His hands move to slip her vest off, which is quickly followed by her shirt and breast band. Her hands have moved lower and are working his pants and belt off, and he decides that’s a good idea, moves to work on her pants too, while moving in close to suck a few more kisses onto her beautiful collarbone.

He’s caught up in the moment, feels a little frantic at the need to be close to her, to be in her, warm and safe and whole, so it’s a little unexpected when he hears her giggle just inches above his ear.

He looks up, a little confused. “What are you laughing at?”

“It’s just I’m a little stuck,” she says, still laughing a little.

That does nothing to alleviate his confusion. “What do you mean?”

She raises an eyebrow and glances down to the floor where her pants have caught on her boots which remain on her feet, inhibiting her movement.

Well, he can fix that easily enough.

He throws a wicked grin at Rey before leaning down, placing one arm behind her back and the other around her thighs. She lets out a surprised shriek as he lifts her up in a bridal carry, and a moment later he’s tossing her onto the bed, where she lands and bursts out laughing.

He likes that laugh, loves to see her happy and carefree, but he wants something a little different from her lips at the moment. He makes quick work of her shoes and pants, before leaning over and gently pressing his body into hers.

His lips quickly meet hers again, and he brings his hand up from her hip to her breast, giving it a soft squeeze before rubbing his fingertips around her nipple. He’s rewarded with her soft moan, and there’s the sound he’s looking for. He brings his lips down to her throat, hoping to chase that sound, elicit it again, when she starts writhing underneath him. He can’t help but respond to her, his own body pressing back against hers, hoping for some of that sweet friction, the sheer warmth and deliciousness of her skin against his.

By the time he’s got his lips around a nipple, she’s squirming even harder, her hips rolling upwards against his own hardness.

He brings his hand lower, running it down her belly, through her soft curls, until he’s dragging his index finger along her slit. He can’t help but moan, the sound coming from low in his chest, as he feels her wetness, soaked even now.

“Poe,” she groans, and while he loves hearing her moans, his favorite has to be his name, the sound dripping with pleasure, as it falls from her lips.

He rewards that sound by dipping his finger inside, then letting it run up until he reaches her clit, slowly rubbing around her bud.

She moans, a low “Yes” as she starts working her hips, and he follows the rhythm she sets. He needs her, desperately, has needed her since he stumbled off the ship after the mission. He presses his own hips down until his cock rests against her hip, rolls his hips a little to take a bit of the edge off, and he feels her press up slightly against him. But first . . . first, he wants to feel her come, feel her lose control, wants to feel how very alive she is underneath his fingers.

Her moans come more frequently as he works at her, her breath coming a little faster, and he can feel the steady tempo of her hips pick up speed as he rubs at her clit with his thumb, while two fingers press inside her. Her hands come up until they rest in his hair, and she pulls him down into a bruising kiss, her tongue pressing inside until it’s caressing his. Within moments, she breaks the kiss, gasping into his mouth as her climax washes over her. He works her through it, and he’s breathing heavily too, feeling intoxicated at just getting to watch her orgasm come over her.

Her eyes open, her gaze a bit dreamy, and he watches as her lips stretch into a wicked grin.

“Poe,” she says, and he hums in reply. She rolls her hips, pressing into his cock, and he gasps, can’t help but thrust his own hips, thinks he could probably come just like this with how worked up he is, and the thought of his come painting her stomach white causes him to groan.

Luckily her sweet voice breaks into his thoughts, and a sharp, delicious tug of her fingers in his hair causes his eyes to fly open. “Poe,” she says once more. “Please, fuck me.”

He grins. He can’t say no to her ever, especially now, not when their thoughts are so aligned, not when his blood is practically screaming at him to get lost in her.

He takes his cock in hand and lines himself up with her, and they both groan as he sinks into her. She’s hot and wet and feels like everything good in the galaxy. This is where his body has been screaming at him to be, and as he thrusts and rolls his hips, he becomes even further and further removed from the carnage and terror that he’s left behind, until it’s nothing but her and him together and safe and chasing pleasure in their little room on base.

He’s impossibly close already, and he moves a hand between them, works it lower until he can press his thumb against her clit once more. He moans as she rakes the nails of one hand down his back until they grip his ass, urging him even closer. Her other hand makes its way into his hair once more, dragging his head down until its resting in the curve of her neck and shoulder. She’s panting straight into his ear and it’s almost too much, and he’s urging her on, “Please, please, please,” and he’s practically delirious by the time she clenches around his cock as climax overtakes her, and with a few more thrusts he lets go too, pressing deep into her as he feels his own orgasm rush through him, the pleasure of it all running up his spine and through his body until he feels like he’s floating with it.  

He doesn’t know how long he lays against her, panting into her neck, but when he comes to, she’s cradling him to her, running a gentle hand up and down his back, and humming a tune that he recognizes from one of the songs he’s played for her – even sung for her – from his home world.

It’s sweet. She’s sweet. And alive, and so, so good to him. He presses a wet, slightly uncoordinated kiss to where her pulse thrums just underneath the skin of her neck. She stops humming, but her hand doesn’t stop its soothing path along his back.

“You’re okay,” she says, softly.

He’s not sure if it’s a question or a statement. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“It was bad?”

He nods his head as much as he could considering how it’s tucked against her. “Yeah, it was bad. But we are all alive.”

“You’re alive. You came back to me.” Her voice is soft, a little shaky, and he pulls back just enough to look at her face and see her eyes. Her hand comes up to stroke along his cheek, and he turns a little to press his lips against her palm.

“I came back to you. I’ll always do everything in my power to come back to you,” he says, aware that he can’t promise to always come back, aware that neither of them has the power to promise that with any certainty in the middle of a war.

She understands this, though, his sweet, sweet Rey. She probably understands better than most.

Nonetheless, he can’t let it end there. “I love you,” he says, and he loves the way she smiles a little every time he says that, her eyes lighting up, no matter how often he says it, and he knows he says it more than most would say it to their partners. “I love you so much. No matter what happens, that will always be true.”

She leans up and kisses him softly, a delightful contrast to their earlier intensity. “I love you, too, Poe Dameron. I’m so glad you’re home.”


End file.
